Sometimes I think it wasn’t love at all. Maybe it was my way of shaking and waking myself up emotionally, my way of proving that I can feel and have passion for people, my way of breaking out from the shell of my inner world. Perhaps it was an attempt to re-evaluate my own existence on this planet. Maybe I just have a weird attitude. But then who doesn’t?
At the time I met Ben, I had been living in Slown for a couple of months. I had established a regular route between the Institute and the apartment that I shared with a guy from work.
Slown, like no other western metropolis, enchanted me with the autumn beauty of its parks. And as if to match the abundance of red-leafed maples, the city was overflowing with ginger dwellers - people, squirrels, foxes, even orange carp and Mandarin ducks in the ponds. The red colour of passion heralded a storm in my northern soul.
One evening I was coming home when I saw a pleasant young couple, who were smiling at me. The following day on my way back from work, I heard a voice exclaiming in Russian, “Look, it’s that guy again”. I looked round and saw the same couple I had noticed the day before. The girl giggled and they disappeared into a grocery shop.
On the third day I met them again. This time it was getting late and I was feeling hungry, so I walked home fast, thinking about food. As I passed the grocery store, I felt as if someone was following me, so I stopped and turned around and saw this girl hand-in-hand with her companion, again staring at me.
I hesitated for a moment and then approached them.
“Hi guys, have you been following me? I keep noticing you each time I’m around here.”
“Oh really?” The girl took the initiative. “Actually … Yes, we did spot you a couple of times and became curious.”
“What about?”
“Benny says you are not like other gay guys.”
I was annoyed at this. “OK, is this a formal introduction? And what makes you think I’m gay?”
She used sign language to translate what I’d said to her friend. He took out a notebook and wrote in it: You have a funny walk, it looks feminine, and yesterday I saw you looking especially hard at a handsome guy.
He then looked me in the eyes in a provocative way. I gazed back at him intently, thinking through my next step.
The man signed to the girl and she said:
“Oh sorry, my name is Marina, his name is –”
“Benjamin. I got that already. I’m Agie.”
“Nice to meet you, Agie!”
“Marina is a Slavic name, right? But you have a German accent.”
“Actually, Marina is not a Slavic name. In Greek it means that I came from the sea! I was brought up in Austria, but my parents are Russian. Ben is Austrian.”
“Is he totally deaf?”
”He can hear a bit. His hearing aid broke a couple of days ago. He doesn’t have a replacement yet, and that’s why he’s got the notebook.”
“So what do you two do?”
Poor thing, she had to sign all our conversation to Ben. And even worse, she said that the notebook was a slow and annoying way to interact when you weren’t used to it. She joked that she was going to have to interpret for us on our first date. That’s Marina for you. But I think I’m running ahead of myself.
Having unraveled the notebook mystery, Marina suggested going for a drink (and a sandwich for starving me). We found a café nearby. Since it was late autumn and a little chilly, we sat at a window table inside. When the tea arrived, I looked at Ben and wondered how I was going to tell him about myself. I decided it was way too early to think about that and I elected instead to study my new acquaintances.
I first probed:
“I remember you said something in Russian behind my back the other day. Did you know that I’m a Russian?”
“Oh, I thought you missed that. Yes, we’ve seen you ten times maybe and we’ve been watching you, because Benny fancies you.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “First of all, you look Russian; also once we heard you talking on your mobile in Russian while you were shopping. We hid behind the shelving, so you probably didn’t see us. Then I decided to use this trick and say something in Russian to get your attention. We figured if you were interested, then you would show it somehow. You remembered Ben’s name even though I only mentioned it indirectly. To be honest, I knew you would like Ben. I think you make a good match. Sorry, I talk too much. I don’t want to spoil your date, guys.”
She then signed back and forth with Ben, while I followed the intricate movements of his fingers, suppressing the urge to touch them. For some reason, Russian people often seem to get off to a quick start in relationships.
***
Several days later Ben got his hearing aid back and we agreed to meet in a park close to my place and go for a walk. He was in a splendid mood, maybe because the day was sunny and rather warm. After a long stroll, we found a bench to rest ourselves on.
There was an awkward pause and I didn’t know how to begin, so we just looked straight in front of us, turning to each other for a second a couple of times.
“Agie, I … think you are very cute,” he said shyly and he slowly moved his face closer to mine.
I hesitated but reciprocated. He touched my lips with his, very gently as if they were flower petals. I opened up my mouth and we had our first kiss. Then I remember turning away from him for a moment and saying:
“Ben, you do know what I am?” I then looked back at him, expecting affirmation.
“What do you mean, Agie?” He was clearly puzzled.
“I mean I am a transsexual.”
“You?!! No way!!” The slight embarrassment written on my face answered that, so he continued with his questions. “You mean you are a … girl? Wait a minute! Which way?”
“I was born as a guy, but I have had an operation recently, so now I’m a woman.”
“Gosh, you mean no dick?”
I nodded.
“Wow! I thought you were just a feminine guy!”
“Sorry I got you confused. I don’t wear much make-up or dress like a girl on a working day.”
“Wow! Long hair, that explains a lot … Hey, what about the boobs?”
“Still to come!”
“But I thought it was the other way around?”
“Yes, it is usually, but you see I prefer it this way. Personally I don’t find any appeal in a she-male concept, so I started with vaginoplasty. Girls aren’t born with large melon-shaped boobies. Consider me pre-pubescent now.
“Wow! Sorry if I’m asking too many questions. It’s just I have never met anyone like you!”
“That’s all right, Ben! I feel a bit of a freak myself. I know many people are shocked when they realise …”
“Well, I’m a hearing impaired guy. I know how it feels like to be different.”
“I bet you do.”
I was feeling slightly miserable after my confession. Ben, however, was very excited.
“Wow! I haven’t seen you all dolled up, but you are so beautiful already. So handsome and transsexual!”
“Remember that ‘handsome’ is now a word to describe boys only. But thank you. I think you’re cute too, maybe not the cutest, but certainly unique. It’s getting a bit chilly. Let’s go somewhere warm.”
There was an awkward silence when we started walking, so I decided to ask that question.
“So am I still attractive to you, not just abstractly beautiful? Oh, you don’t have to answer. You’re probably still shocked.”
“Yeah … I don’t know, Agie. I guess I am not a regular gay guy, still, to be honest, I don’t know how I’m going to feel … touching your body …”
“That’s all right, Ben. No pressure. No pressure … If I were you, I’d probably run away! Oh, I’m joking. I’m sure you’re a nice chap. You wouldn’t treat a lady like that, would you?”
“You’re funny, I like that. Hey, by the way, Agie, is that your real name? I mean, it sounds strange.”
“It’s my initials. AG. My first and middle names are Andrey Grigoryevich. The initials sounded like a girl’s name, so I decided to become A-G-ie.”
“Wow! I thought I was the one who had an unusual life …”
On the next date we went to see a film, then we went for drinks, then ended up … but I won’t go into further details.